Reasons
by Kaz Gemcity
Summary: What is everything we know about Michael's past is a lie? What will happen with the truth comes out?  Will anyone help Michael when he needs it most? Or is he going to be out in the cold, watching through the window at the life he chose to leave behind?
1. Chapter 1

I lay on the floor, my cheek pressed hard against the cold, cracked tile. Blood runs down my face and I can feel it swerving to avoid my eyes. I want to curl up inside myself and accept defeat. But I can't do that. To let him win again means that all of the fight was for nothing.

It takes all of my strenght to push up from the floor. Without the icepack of tile a new flow of pain erupts along my side. I suck in my breath, but my grown of pain does not go unnoticed. He watches as I stand, rising to my full height, only a few inches shorter than him. He laughs at my feeble atempts to move toward him.

"You never did learn when to keep your head down, did you boy?" He growls, lifting my chin with his thick fingers. I meet his gaze defiantly, then dilberately look down and spit on his dirty boots. His hands leave greasy stains on my tan Armani suit. A backhand leaves me on the floor again, this time coming to a stop on my back. I can already feel a bruise forming. I push myself up again, unwilling to lose this fight. I took enough of his crap twenty years ago. I will not stand for it now. He narrows his eyes

"This isn't a fight you are going to win again." I hiss, straiting my spine and pulling back my shoulders. He kicks my behind my knee and I fall, kneeling, in front of him. He grabs my hair and pulls my head painfully back.

"I think I already have." He whispers in my ear. Too bad for him that after twenty years of training, his moves have become predictable. I grab the hand that is in my hair and use it to pull myself up. I spin and pull it behind his back. With a rush of adraneline I push him down on the floor and pin him beneath my knees. Pulling the gun out of his pants and pressing it to the back of his head, I tell him words that still send shivers down my spine when they are said to me.

"Welcome to Miami, Frank."


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N- Hey guys! That's right, I'm back. Hopefully for a while this time. I will be updating all of my multi-chapter stories again, still in order. But reviews always encourage me to go faster ;) And I am sorry that I missed this story the first time around, I've no idea why it slipped my mind. Also on this set of reviews, I'm going to try and make sure that they are of a decent length, and not short, little blurbs. _**

**_Ummm... Ok, so that's enough writers' seriousness. Let's talk about a book. _**

**_"Th1rteen R3asons Why" to be exact. I just read it, and I hope all of you do too. It's an amazing book, and you won't be able to put it down. Thanks, love you all. I'm gonna get on with the story now. _**

My dad looked at me with what I hopped was genuine fear. And I knew it was when he made the mistake of honoring me with his cocky grin.

"You don't got it in you, boy." He said, his voice quivering even as he fought to keep it steady.

I fought the urge to just do it right there. To pull the trigger and be done with his games and his taunts. Even drunk, he had always been good at reading faces and emotions and knowing just which button to poke.

But I forced myself to think clearly. Pulling the trigger is what Frank would have done, had our roles been reversed. And I was not him, and I was determined to never become him.

I kept the gun at his head, but pulled him up. Leaning in I whispered in his ear,

"I'm not you Frank. I'm stronger than that." He made the mistake of grinning at me again. I swung without out thinking, my fist making solid contact with his side.

He gasped in pain, folding halfway over to his side. I couldn't help the smirk on my face. I rummaged in the kitchen draw behind me and pulled out a few zip ties. Pulling Frank back up I bound his hands behind his back.

I kept my hand on his arm, but tucked his gun into the back of my tan suit pants. I smiled at him, my cheeky grin a perfect match for his.

"Stronger than that? You're weak boy. Couldn't have pulled that trigger if it would have saved your life." He hissed, pain seeping into his tone.

This time there was no expression on my face when my fist made contact with his nose. I felt it bend beneath my hand, but I didn't hit hard enough to break it. Blood flowed gently down Frank's face, but I ignored it.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's talk about why you're here Frank." I started, using my best super-spy-no-nonsense voice.

"You're obviously not here to be the father you never were. And Nate is in Vagas. Mom is in Disney. So that leaves me. What do you want Frank?" I asked, sitting him down in a dining room chair.

"I need your help Michael."


End file.
